


Mirror

by TheShyestIcicle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Just hinted at - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, but I tagged it just in case, no details though, slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShyestIcicle/pseuds/TheShyestIcicle
Summary: Standing before the mirror he once could not bear to look into, the Inquisitor touches the dragon tooth necklace under his shirt and smiles.The other half is with The Iron Bull.





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the r/dragonage subreddit writing prompt challenge. I combined two prompts, a time when your character has felt wonder and "Can you face yourself in the mirror?".

His room is... nice.

Clear Lavellan runs his hand over the soft blanket on his bed. It's material is so fine, so soft... so much more luxurious than anything the Dalish ever had. It is a nice color too, he thinks, a light gold that goes well with the general theme of the room.

The entire room has a soft gold and white theme, with small trinkets Clear has collected placed carefully in various nooks and crannies. There is even a small section dedicated to the various jewellery that Clear has slowly collected, glittering earrings and necklaces that Clear loves to wear.

Clear can't help but smile. Josephine must have taken over decorating his room; he'd once told her how much he liked gold and white together, how he thought the two made a simple yet elegant combination.

Yes, this is a nice room. Nicer, Clear thinks, than he deserves. No matter that he is the so-called Herald of Andraste, no matter that he is now Inquisitor. This room, with its soft bed, sturdy desk, luxurious couch, marble balcony... it does not belong to a small and timid elf, a scrawny mage fresh from the forest, still inexperienced in the world of the humans.

He runs his hand over the soft blanket again and sighs. What would his mother say, if she could see him now, surrounded by luxury he does not deserve, revered by the very humans she has always looked down upon?

He runs his hand through his hair and sighs again. Perhaps she might finally be proud of him, maybe even place a hand on his shoulder, and smile at him, her eyes shining. Perhaps she would be happy.

He catches his reflection in the corner of his eye and starts. There is a mirror in the corner of the room, one of those floor length ones. Another thing the Dalish never had, another luxury that Clear is beneath.

He stares at the mirror and a pitiful elf stares back. He looks very much like his mother... except for the scar on his left eye, a stark reminder of the last time he saw his mother.

This mirror he once could never have dreamed of affording, this room with its velvet sheets and fine furniture... Clear smiles bitterly into the mirror.

No, his mother would not have been happy. She would not have been proud.

She never was.

...

Clear gasps with exertion, his right hand clenching the hilt of his spirit blade. The high dragon bares her teeth in a snarl, her great wings unfolding, ready to pull in Clear's small party with her wind.

His companions are ready, Cole about to strike from the shadows, Cassandra's shield up. And The Iron Bull...

Clear's heart skips a few beats as he takes in Bull's excited grin, his blood-stained muscles flexing as he hefts his two-handed axe. He knows Bull had wanted to fight a dragon, why, Bull had _constantly_ begged to fight every time a dragon flew overhead.

But to see him so... _alive_... Clear has never seen anything so beautiful.

And this dragon, her eyes wild and furious, her great wings beating... Clear cannot help but grin as his spirit blade sinks into the dragon's leg, as her furious screams ring through the air. She, too, is beautiful in her untamed savagery, and this rush of adrenaline...

Clear laughs and The Iron Bull grins at him. Bull had been right; this _is_ incredible!

And when the dragon lies dead, having fought to the last breath with all her might, Bull pulls Clear into a furious kiss, a kiss that leaves Clear gasping for breath, that causes some of the Inquisition's soldiers who'd helped in the battle to cough and look away, that makes Cole say something running through Clear's mind, something that should probably embarrass him, but he doesn't care, because he and Bull have just killed a dragon, and they are _alive_ , and nothing else matters.

Clear laughs again, breathless and giddy, his eyes gazing at Bull in wonder. That this man, this wonderful, ridiculous, _beautiful_ man would be here now, arms around Clear, his deep voice shouting in victory, that he chooses to celebrate this moment with a ridiculously small elf, an elf that hardly knew what to do with a knife and a fork only months ago...

This is so stupidly _wonderful_ that Clear can hardly believe it is real.

But it is. This is real, The Bull is real, the spirit blade still in Clear's hand is real, the dead dragon is real, his people's relieved voices are _real_...

This feeling bubbling in his chest... he's happy, he thinks, happy and content and- and loved. His friends' love, Bull's, even- even the people he commands, they- they _love_ him, they don't hate him or even tolerate him.

He is... cherished.

And he cannot help but laugh again, laugh in wonder, because he never thought he'd feel so _happy_ , so loved, that he would _belong_.

He feels rather than sees Cole's beaming eyes, his approving smile.

 _"They love you,_ " he'd once told Clear, so simply, like it was so obvious.

And maybe it always has been.

...

A giddy laugh builds its way up in Clear's throat, but he keeps it under control, at least until he leaves the tavern, until he reaches his room.

Then he leans against his wall and laughs and laughs and laughs. His laugh is joyful and wondering, because beneath his shirt, cool against his skin, is half of a dragon's tooth.

The other half is with Bull.

Clear laughs again and thinks he might spin. Why, oh why, had he been so nervous before, so scared to give Bull this little thing? So afraid of rejection, of being told he was nothing more than a fun distraction.

Oh, but he should have known better, known that he is not something to be tolerated, something that is there, but _isn't_ there. He isn't the same Clear he was with the Dalish, now is he?

He catches sight of his reflection in the mirror again. His face is bright red, his lips kiss swollen, his pupils wide, and there is a stupid grin on his face.

Another giddy giggle escapes from his lips. Well, why shouldn't he grin? Why shouldn't he be so stupidly and deliriously happy? Looking into a mirror isn't so bad, he thinks, when he's so happy and content. He thinks... he thinks he likes this Clear, this happy and confident elf who has come such a long way from when he was still Dalish.

He fingers the dragon's tooth under his shirt. It's a warm presence, a reminder of the man he loves, yes, loves! He almost wants to shout that, shout that he loves The Iron Bull, let all of Skyhold know!

Clear grins at his reflection.

He doesn't look so much like his mother now, does he?

 


End file.
